


Unbroken

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4181649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid gets injured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbroken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [severity_softly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/severity_softly/gifts).



> This was written for severity_softly who wanted one of the guys injured and the other looking after him. It was originally posted to Livejournal in 2009.

Hotch and Reid stuck to the shadows, moving as stealthily as they could down the alleyway and to the back of the house. They’d caught a lucky break in the case and the UnSub was holed up with his third victim (that they knew of) right now, with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, though they’d been brought in late and didn’t have a complete profile yet, they knew enough to realise that he wouldn’t give up without a fight. SWAT teams were on standby, but Hotch had decided their team go in first. Morgan, Rossi and Prentiss to the front, him and Reid to the back.

Weapons drawn and pointed towards the ground they scooted along the rubbish strewn alley. Eyes alert they proceeded carefully, not willing to risk their own safety or anyone else’s. It didn’t help that the UnSub was just that – unknown. Anyone that appeared out of the house, or even along the alley, was a potential killer.

Hotch signalled for Reid to fall back a little as they came to a broken part of the fence that allowed them a clear view of the garden and hopefully any possible escape route. It would at least give them one of the few advantages they were managing to grasp out of this whole mess.

Hotch stepped closer, trying not to let himself get distracted by all the “what ifs” circling around his head. There were far too many variables for his liking but second guessing himself wouldn’t help anybody, least of all their victim.

Reid was a little behind him and to his right and glanced down at his gun, tightening his grip around it when he heard a sound behind him. Cautiously he turned towards it, worried that a stray member of the public was about to get caught in the middle of this mess. But before he had the chance to assess the situation gunshots rang out, and the world turned dark.

* * * * * *

The first thing Reid noticed when he opened his eyes was blue cornflowers. Something about that seemed strange, but right now Reid couldn’t work out exactly what that was. He was also having trouble feeling his legs but that didn’t seem very alarming, though it probably should. But the bed he was lying in was comfortable and warm and the ache in Reid’s head only intensified when he tried to move so he decided lying perfectly still and not thinking was an excellent idea. Only, not thinking for Reid was like not breathing for other people and he couldn’t keep it up for more than half a minute. And even then he’d been thinking about not thinking.

“Ray Greene and Patty Furillo.”

Reid frowned and then winced at the effect it had on his headache. _Funny, that sounded like Hotch._

“They were a team. Something we’d…I’d…overlooked.”

_Yes, definitely Hotch. And a Hotch that sounded like he was going to take all the world’s problems onto his shoulders._

“Can’t foresee everything,” Reid croaked. He blinked in surprise at the hoarseness of his voice. Just how long had he been here? Wherever here was.

“Here, have some water.” Hotch leaned over and gently helped Reid take a few sips before replacing the glass on the table next to the bed. The hospital bed. Suddenly everything was starting to make sense as the pieces of the puzzle slipped into place.

“I got hurt?” he asked.

Hotch’s expression grew even more worried. “You don’t remember?”

Reid tried to shake his head but regretted it immediately.

“No, don’t try to…” Hotch put his hand on Reid’s shoulder to steady him and then withdrew it just as quickly.

“Did I get shot?” Reid asked, remembering the sound of gunfire at least.

“What? No,” Hotch said quickly, looking shocked. “You got hit on the head. You’re fine, though they want you to stay here for the rest of the week.”

“I remember gunshots,” Reid murmured. He kept his eyes on Hotch’s face, trying to work out what was going on, but Hotch refused to look him in the eye. Instead the other man seemed inordinately interested in the décor of the hospital room. If only everything didn’t seem so fuzzy around the edges – it was hard to tell what was Hotch being his usual taciturn self and what was genuine discomfort.

“That was me,” Hotch admitted almost reluctantly. “Patty’s dead.”

“Oh,” Reid said, in lieu of nodding. That at least explained some of Hotch’s tension, though certainly not all. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

“They had to head back,” Hotch replied. “They left you some gifts. Grapes, cards, that kind of thing. Morgan and Garcia filled up your iPod with some songs.”

“Great,” Reid replied uncertainly. He could only imagine the kind of thing they’d enjoyed putting on there. Perhaps he’d wait until his head stopped throbbing before he risked listening to it.

Hotch's lips twitched into a small smile of agreement before turning serious once more. Silence dragged on for a minute until it seemed like Hotch was going to speak, only for him to close his mouth and look away. His eyes darted around the room, settling on anything and everything except the man in the bed. It seemed like he was going to try again, only Reid beat him to it.

“And you stayed?” Reid asked.

Hotch stared into the distance for a moment before nodding. “And I stayed.”

Three words that by themselves didn’t mean all that much, but suddenly they meant the world to Reid. So he just smiled what he hoped was reassuringly at Hotch and then closed his eyes. A moment later he felt the dip in the bed he’d been waiting for as Hotch sat down next to him. Then there were gentle fingers running through his hair and he was almost certain a kiss planted against his forehead.

“Sweet dreams,” Hotch whispered. But he was the only one in the room awake enough to hear them.


End file.
